A Tale of Arthurian Legend revised
by EvermoreElf
Summary: This isn't actually a Bradly fic, just an Arthurian fic. It's about Guenevere. She deserved... you'll see. ^_^ Please please please review!


The story I have to tell you've all heard many times, but with each telling every story is new. It is story of a queen who took part in betrayal, the knight who started it, and the king who was betrayed - Guenevere, Lancelot, and Arthur respectively.br  
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"Leave," Arthur told her, ordered her, pleaded with her, pleaded for her. She had betrayed him and he still didn't know what to do about it or how to take it. He was tired.br  
"Leave?" Guenevere echoed. "How could I leave? Can't you forgive me? It was just one moment. I gave him just one moment. I ilove/i you." She did love him. But she had sinned. She didn't know what to do any more than Arthur did, but she had to try. Desparation pushed to say anything and everything. There was no subtlety; there was no tact. This was the final act. She needed to say more, but she'd hate to be babbling.br  
"You committed a trecherous act. If you don't leave, I'm bound by law to punish you." He didn't say it compassionately. He was a good king, but he was cold in these words. She had broken the law. If we take it as politics nobody gets hurt. If we leave the heart out of everything, I won't get hurt.br  
"I will take it," the queen held her head head with strength, ready for anything. She had sinned, she would pay the price for it.br  
"The punishment is death. I'll have to burn you."br  
Guenevere hesistated only a second. But resolve filled her eyes. "Then do it. I will suffer anything, even death, even flame. Maybe you'll learn something from it." If this was the final act, and it was, then she would go down easily. She would not run, she would not kick and scream. This was the final test - her love or her life. No contest.br  
"What could I possibly learn?" he almost snorted at the absurdity of it. How could a traitor's death teach him anything? It wasn't as if she was a martyr. She was just slime. He gave an inner sigh, because he knew she wasn't slime, it was just easier to think that way. Arthur refused to be upset. He chose what to think and feel. He chose that she was just a criminal. He chose not to be upset, and he wasn't.br  
"How much I love you."br  
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Guenevere smiled a grim bitter smile, bound to a pole. The crowd around her was filled with faces that seemed so distant, but were really terrifyingly close, carrying torches. Guenevere watched as they set and tossed their torches onto the pile of firewood she stood atop. She began to blister from the heat at her lowest portion where the flame was now, but it would climb higher. Stubbornly she would not close her eyes, although the smoke and heat burned them. She began to lose her senses to the heat, and kept in her mind two things - that she was sorry, and that she must prove it by keeping her eyes open. There was nothing glorious about death, she was learning, but that didn't matter. She had said she would teach him something, and she was intent upon keeping her word. Suddenly the former queen's senses came back to her, a thick muscular arm was around her waist, pulling her onto a horse. All around her people were gasping and shouting. It was Lancelot. Great, Guenevere thought bitterly, just to make it all more interesting. She decided right then that an interesting life is not a thing to be desired. Lancelot was met with a glare that could have frozen the flames he'd just pulled the woman he loved from. Guenevere screamed, but her knight thought she was hurt, and would not drop her, she kicked, but just hit the horse, who went faster.br  
The former queen's face was damp with hot tears by the time they stopped. The fire had been painful, but her hurt as now was insurmountable. As soon as her feet hit the ground she started off the other direction, back to the castle and the battle scene that had been started by Mordred. Arthur, Arthur, she would never leave him. She had to tell him she was sorry... she had to make him believe her.br  
"Where are you going?" Lancelot called after her. He'd caught up to her easily for all her burns and troubles. Guenevere had confused him since he first met her, but he'd never been as confused as he was now.br  
She swirled to face him. She was still crying but she didn't notice. It didn't matter. She hated Lancelot. Hated him. "Why didn't you let me burn?!" She yelled, she accused. "You should have let me burn!"br 


End file.
